A promise still so pure
by Mornin'Guvner
Summary: The Doctor and Rose encounter a darkness, a monster, that neither can overcome. Angst but with hopefully some good old fashioned fun. Ten/Rose. Completed now, but may well continue if liked : Please R&R, appreciated muchly. Includes Jack.


**Author's note**: This is awfully angsty but I have been listening to Tears In Heaven by Eric Clapton and lost my best friend this year. Probably the wrong method of outlet but might as well do something productive and keep myself busy. Will try and add in some happiness.

**Chapter One – The dark man.**

The long brown trench-coat was draped across the tiny wooden box. A whirl of white flowers adorned the brass handles of the box, cascading around the shoulders of the dark man that stepped with a sad grace, the tiny wooden box held with elegant strength abreast his shoulder. The man's cheek was pressed against the side of the varnished wood with a silent rage, the wood wet with the tears he did not attempt to fight. His heavy step and gentle sobs were quietened by the haunting banging of a drum, the stroking of a string-quartet and the powerful projection of a solemn voice. The numerous eyes of the room fell upon the lone figure and the coffin, yet the dark man did not acknowledge such attention. The eyes were a blank to him. They were non-existent. He sought the only warmth he knew, the only warmth he welcomed, but could not find her brown eyes, only the mess of blonde hair that he had burrowed into so often in the past week. Rose was why he continued to breathe. She was hunched at the very front of the church pews refusing his contact. The man could not even feel her mind; she was too cold. The dark man had reached the front of the church when he felt a grip tighten on his shoulder and a pair of icy blue eyes locks with his own. The dark man did not move. He stood in silence, fixed, the coffin held to his cheek as if in a tender embrace. He began to move his soft hair against the panel, slowly at first but gathering in speed as his anger began to intensify. He began to sob incoherent words, ancient words that possessed a sorrow none could attempt to identify.

"Doctor? You have to put him down,"

The Doctor looked up from his motion and directly into Jack's eyes.

"He is my boy,"

Jack did not break the Doctor's gaze, but nodded. Jack went to the side of the Doctor and, snaking his arm across his friend's, began to lower the coffin to the bed of flowers in the centre of the church.

It was the evening. The guests had long since escaped the wake; perhaps to escape the insanity of the Doctor, perhaps to escape the silence of Rose. The couple lay together inside of the Tardis inside the 'yellow room', their foreheads resting upon one another.

"_No,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_No,"_

"_Oh Yes,"_

"_Oh I really don't bloody think so!" squealed Rose, a smile spreading across her cheeks._

_The Doctor had had enough of the bickering – bigger measures needed to be taken._

"_Rose Tyler..."_

_And with that, the Doctor slopped runny blue paint across Rose's torso, his boyish grin at its maximum and his flopping hair bouncing with his hysterical laughter. _

"_You know what I think?" The Doctor began as he stared at Rose's gaping, unimpressed mouth, "I think you are 'not amused', I bet you a tenner that I can get you to say it before- - "_

_His hair was pink. Bright, shocking, 'tacky-Jackie' (yes he had come up with that one on their last visit to THE mother) bubblegum pink. He hated tacky-Jackie pink and now Rose had covered him in the thick nastiness._

_The two lovingly grappled on the floor, their laughter echoing through the Tardis. They had chosen to decorate the nursery themselves. True, the Tardis could perhaps have generated the most perfect of rooms in seconds, but when Rose had meant 'hands-on mother' she had meant it to its fullest extent. And the Doctor loved that._

_The Doctor lay on top of Rose, his nose gently tickling hers while his hands held her to the floor._

"_Now admit it Mummy, it is a boy!"_

"_It is a girl!"_

"_Boy!"_

_The two could not risk visiting Earth with a baby that may well have two hearts or even some planet that accepted all sorts of alien species in that the title 'Time-Lord' usually brought trouble – something the two were trying to stay out of (most of the time) – and had therefore not yet found out the sex of their baby._

_The Doctor looked down on Rose and marvelled. He didn't mind if their baby was a boy or a girl as long as they had a tenth of her beauty – no, wait – of her adventurousness, he would be satisfied. He leaned over her chest and pressed his lips to her forehead. He didn't care for forever anymore._

_Rose giggled and rolled on top of the Doctor._

"_You know, such tricks won't work once your belly explodes and you crush me to death,"_

"_Yellow," Rose smiled, interrupting his banter._

"_Yellow? Yellow what? Submarine?"_

"_Yellow. For the walls, for the baby. Neutral and calm and..."_

"_Banana-like,"_

_It was the yellow room._

The Doctor and Rose lay huddled on the single bed with the planets on the sheets, with the drawings on the wall, with the dirtied rugby shirts on the floor and wept.

Rose bore into the yellow wall, her body turned away from her lover. She felt his arm lay on her stomach and his breath on her neck as he tried to get close to her, the centimetres separating them suddenly conquered. She hated it. Hated the touch. It only reminded her of what she had had. What had been hers. Her two boys. Her head began to swarm with her the memory of her boy. He was only seven. Just seven. Her eyes were wet.

"Rose?"

"Don't,"

"I just want – "

"Stop,"

"We need to talk about this. I have to – "

Rose snapped up.

"Shut-up, just stop,"

Her screech pierced the Doctor and he found himself on his feet, his fist his outlet. He had never been a violent man, but he would not deem this violence. He would call this passion and love and sorrow, he would call this a pain that supersedes all. It would take his Rose from him.

Perhaps this is one monster neither could conquer.

Thank you so much for reading this. Should I maybe leave it as a short little piece or turn this into a full-blown 'can they survive this' epic?

Please read and review, it is awfully appreciated.


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